Clipping the Crow's Wings
by kimiekazi
Summary: As pure as she was, she became tainted. Lyna survived where others fell and led when others backed down. The country that hated used her up in order to save it all. Though she could feel herself slipping away, she helped with a smile. A modified Female Surana background. Warden X Zevran. Romantic Novelization of Dragon Age Origins. Rating for violence, mild sexuality, and language.
1. Origin 1

**Disclaimer: I am not affiliated to Bioware and cannot claim ownership of any recognizable characters or plot.**

**V***V**

Lyna knew that she should only practice her magic near a healer or the keeper. The rule had been ingrained in her since she was discovered to be a mage at the age of ten. But she thought she had to practice. She wanted to be a halla herder, not a healer, and so she would have to display more control when the time came to test for her vallisin. The gentle and beautiful creatures were always kind to her especially. The craft of healing, however, she found lumpy, cold, and rather impossible. But their clan and others nearby needed healers. It was kind of selfish of her to want to be a herder, but there were four other mages her age in the clan. She had to be the best, only one would be chosen as herder. And so she practiced her chants on the outskirts of the halla den. One of the calves sat on her lap, so it looked like she was cooing to it. She didn't want to practice weaving magic in the daytime, so she would usually wait until night to practice calling to the halla through a connection to the fade. She would need to be a protector of them and as such sometimes she practiced elemental spells. She thought it was harmless, if a little dishonest. But she knew that Maya also practiced without supervision and Lyna suspected that Luca did too.

When it turned dusk on the day of the ritual, the mages lined up mixed in the other da'len ready for their vallisin. The one to be hunters were first, then the craft makers, one of which was Maya, and then the Firsts, which left Lyna standing with Eli, who also wanted to be a herder. There were only two categories left, healer and herder. Lyna knew that her lack of skill would not help the decision, as the Keeper did not like to think in negatives, and so she was nervous. Eli would be a decent healer, he enjoyed helping people and talking with them. He wanted to be with the herd because it seemed like less work, and he wouldn't have to leave. But he didn't understand that herders put the halla before everything, many never bonding or having children. The Keeper knew that, but he knew that Lyna was unpredictable. She was somewhat erratic and overly emotional. A herder had to be stoic and tender. Lyna was naive and controlling. She had kindness in her, but the Keeper was unsure what would have to happen to make that a dominant feature. The Keeper feared that Lyna wanted to be herder because it was easier than learning how to deal with people. Two candidates that wanted it; both because it would be easy, in some way or another. The Dalish was not an easy life. Whichever she picked would think it was. As Keeper, is was his job to weigh the options of putting a hardship on a clan with an unenthusiastic and unskilled healer, versus letting Lyna be spoiled in the first major choice in her life.

Many people got what choice they wanted and some grew to be exceptional. Being misguided in choices and set straight was part of being a da'len. This was the hardest decision he had faced in a while, but he made his decision when Lyna didn't waiver from making eye contact like Eli did. Perhaps she was strong enough to be a herder if she could be brave against the person who made this decision.

"The Herder to our clan is Lyna, and finally, the Healer, who must unfortunately leave us for a clan who needs him desperately, is Eli." The Keeper finally announced. In the background you could hear Lyna's parents issue a sigh of relief and Eli's mother's hushed sob. "For the ones who must leave our clan, you will do so as adults. You receive your vallisin here, where your birth clan will always remember you. Now comes the part where you choose and receive your markings. May the rest of the clan enjoy the celebration, as da'len goes into the land ship and an adult comes out." The clan dispersed. One by one, the Keeper called an elf into her tent.

Lyna was to be second to last and Eli last, as that is the order in which they were called. "Congratulations." Eli said to her. "You were picked over two others that wanted it, that's…" He trailed off.

"Lucky." Lyna supplied. "Thank you for your congratulations." She said with a smile.

"Why do you say it is luck, lethallin?"

"I'm lucky that you're good with people. You will make an excellent healer, Eli. I'm sorry to see you leave, you know." Lyna blushed as she said that. She didn't have any room to say that in the manner she did. She was an awkward, young teen, who was to be a herder. She knew they could never bond, but she had a crush on him.

"I'm sorry to leave you." He said with a knowing smile. "I have to confess that I thought you would become a craft worker if not a herder. I never realized that you were my competition until it was too late to change my preference. I wouldn't have almost forced you to be healer." They kept speaking, hinting at things that they had no right to. She likely wouldn't bond, and he was to leave, but they let themselves share a kiss when they were the only two left waiting to be marked.

Lyna went into The Keeper's tent knowing that he held her no ill-will. Lyna sat in front of the healer with a smile. "What made you chose me, Keeper?"

"I saw a strength in you that goes deep. One needs to be absolute in decisions with the Herd and must know themselves very well. Eli will make a charismatic healer, and may be too rough with the Herd. And I think that you are willing to sacrifice yourself to the Herd."

Lyna blushed a little at the compliments she was being paid. "Am I correct in assuming you want the design of Chilan'nain?"

"Yes." She knew that she wanted to dedicate herself to The Mother of the Halla. Beyond that, the shy creatures reflected her personality. Lyna was a lucky one that didn't have to choose between honoring the god reflecting her job or her personality. "Full design in grey." The Keeper did one line at a time. Cutting the swirl into her forehead and then pouring ink into the wound, catching it with a cloth before it got into her eyes. Lyna bit down on her lower lip, but otherwise did not show any outward signs of the pain. After the healer finished with the part on the forehead, there was a scream outside, shortly followed by somebody bursting into the Keeper's tent.

"What's going on?" The Keeper asked with an authoritative, annoyed, and apprehensive tone.

"There are Templars outside. They sensed magic, and are here to collect the mages. They've killed a hunter." The craft master explained. The Keeper got up and rushed out with his staff. Lyna followed, knowing that she couldn't stay hidden. When she stepped outside, she saw flames burning the land ship of the story teller, meaning that even more of their history would be lost. The flames were not contained to the one spot, spreading across the entire left side of the camp. The group of Templars were attacking from the right side, slowly making the elves edge towards the fire. The terrifying warriors had killed many more than a hunter. Some mages lay dead and some were screaming in pain after the Templar had temporarily cut off their connection to the fade. Lyna quickly brought a wall of ice to stop the destructive flames. Two Templars turned on her, which allowed them to be felled by arrows. Many of the fighters in the clan were unconscious or dead, and so the four remaining Templars turned to her and the keeper after throwing flasks to take care of the remaining rogues. Lyna pulled a heavy force field around herself, unsure what else to do. The non-fighters of the clan were huddled together, scared and confused. The clan let out a collective scream as the Keeper fell.

Lyna knew that she would either have to kill four men herself, men that just took out the majority of the camp, or run. If she ran, they would chase her and leave everybody else alone. She saw an unconscious mage begin to stir and ran before the Templars could kill him for sure. Taking off into the woods was easy, they had lost track of her during their murdering of the Keeper. She let fire breathe through her hands while running, catching brush and raising a lot of smoke. The Templars left the camp to chase after her. She ran, still leaving traces of magic of magic to make sure that they would catch her once she was far enough away to ensure her clan's safety. She tumbled down small cliffs as she went, her only consolation that humans had worse eyesight than elves at night. They continued to chase her for two days before she was caught. She was hungry and weak, but Lyna knew that her clan had more than enough time to hide escape and assimilate with another clan. She let herself be caught. On the third day, just as dawn began to rise, they caught up to her.

They beat her and put her in shackles and kept draining her mana every other hour. When they passed through a town, they humiliated her by leaving her outside, chained to a wooden hold used for horses. She did not cry. Lyna didn't let her tears escape. She didn't show any emotion at all. She did what a herder had to. She literally gave up everything she ever knew or had to ensure the safety of her herd and clan. What hurt Lyna more than any of the insults or things thrown at her was that she didn't know how successful she had been. Her clan was small, many of them were mages. How many mages died versus were simply unconscious?

Lyna hoped that they could make it to a new clan soon; they wouldn't have many supplies or tools. The worst had been seeing her little sister's face. The five year old didn't understand that people lay dead. Or that when Lyna ran, it wasn't to get away, but to save people. Her brother saw everything and likely understood why she ran. If their parents didn't survive, it would be his responsibility to explain it to her. That thought caused her to shake. She was young to be given her vallisin. Mages were typically considered adults earlier, because they had to start training earlier. But she would turn fifteen on the winter solstice, still a year until a mage would typically get their vallisin. If she hadn't insisted to the Keeper, she could have been outside and done more to protect her clan. She could have helped instead of let her Keeper die. Maybe she made up for it by saving what was left of her clan, but that didn't help her feel better.

As the Templars got closer to their destination, they treated her with less brutality, but still very hostile. They began to feed her twice daily a week before they arrived at their destination. Lyna didn't know what awaited her, and didn't know if she could ask. "We should be there by midday tomorrow, girl." One of the less hostile ones told her.

"Where are we going?" Lyna asked with a sore throat, partially form the lack of water, mainly because it was tremendous effort to hold back all of her tears.

"To the Circle at Kinloch Hold. It is where all the mages in Fereldon live."

"How long will I be there?" Lyna asked, unsure where they even were in Thedas.

"Probably for the rest of your life, child."

Lyna heard those words and suddenly felt like she had to vomit. He explained that it was a tower made of stone and she felt even sicker, though she didn't know that was possible. The whole situation seemed to be a mockery. She would have to live like a shem for the rest of her life because she saved her clan. Lyna spent the rest of the trip enjoying every sound and every sight that she may never see again. The young teen considered asking the Templar to kill her. She didn't want to never be able to bury her feet in the dirt and see the sky again. Before she knew that that was what she wanted, they arrived.

Lyna sat in the boat with a dead stare, the color drained out of her face, and the life out of her eyes. When she was pushed inside, some of the mages gaped. She was older than most are when they are discovered. Her robes announced that she was Dalish and the wounds across her body that she was hard to catch. The First Enchanter was impressed. He had seen many mages come in screaming, some come in crying, and even some unconscious ones. Never had he seen somebody come in with such dignity. She was ushered past him and announced to the Templar Commander Gregoir. Irving knew that all mages would have to go through screening before he got to meet them. When Lyna was escorted to the Head Knight to the basement, she realized that none of the other mages they passed seemed injured, so she had that to look forward to, at least.

They stood in a drab, dark hallway. Gregoir led her into a room where a man with a blank stare and a shaved head was doing some type of inventory. The room had robes that Lyna recognized the other mages were wearing. There were many, many blue ones, but less yellow, and even fewer red. She assumed they meant some type of ranking system. "Mark, we have a new mage that needs a phylactery, a set of robes, a journal, and a quill." A thought occurred to Gregoir and he spoke again before the odd man could speak. "You do know how to read and write, don't you?" He asked the elf. She nodded. Gregoir liked how quiet this one was. She seemed rather attentive too, so Gregoir was sure she'd do fine in her studies.

"Here is the vile, Knight Commander." Mark spoke with a dry monotonous voice that Lyna had never heard before. She pushed the disturbing sound out of her head and hoped he wouldn't speak again.

"A phylactery is a vile of blood. It's laced with lyrium. If you ever managed to get away from here, we'll track you down with it. And we will drag you right back. You'll spend time in solitary for any transgressions you do while you're here, running off is the worst one. Do you understand?" Again Lyna nodded instead of speaking. "Hold out your arm." He commanded. Lyna lifted her arm lazily and turned away slightly- she didn't want to see any blood. She felt a hot pain go through her hand and a warm liquid slide over it. "Mark, give her a poultice." Gregoir commanded while putting a stopper in the vile. "Process her, and then give her the supplies. After that, you'll take her to Irving." He said to him and then looked back to the small mage. "Follow Mark's directions. There's a Templar right outside the door, so don't try any funny business. Irving will explain things better for you." He frowned when she only nodded a third time, instead of speaking and then left. In his experience, the quieter mages, though less troublesome, rarely made it through their harrowing. The fact that she is going to have five less years practically guarantees he'll have to burn her corpse someday.

V***V

Lyna had been cleaned, put in robes, her old ones put into a rubbish bin, and given supplies. She didn't like the way these shoes didn't bend with her feet. She would have to wear them down so she didn't make so much noise. The robes, she was apathetic to. They were longer than her old ones, but it was cold inside the stone walls and winter was coming. On the walk up to see the man called Irving, they climbed up several stories, but it felt to her like they were just going around and around. The ceilings were bearing down on her and the walls were unyielding, so unlike the land ships she had been used to. When the odd mage told her they had arrived, she was glad she wouldn't have to walk around this place for very much longer.

Lyna knocked on the door and heard a man with a warm voice beckon her inside. "You're the new mage?" He asked and stood up from behind his desk.

"Yes, I am Lyna Surana of the Medae clan." She answered with a small incline of her head. He was the equivalent of a Keeper here and it wouldn't do to be rude to him. Lyna knew that she would be here for a while, and even if she ever left, she would have to come back here. He was the person in charge of her life, or at least one of two. She was less intimidated by him than Gregoir, however. Gregoir had that terrible power that cut her off from her magic and could use her own mana against her. She never wanted to feel that again. Lyna wasn't sure how far she would go to avoid the pain, but she didn't think she was above much after watching her Keeper die.

"You're going to have to shorten that, child." Irving had seen many mages try to keep their hometown or family. It was always harder for those ones.

"I am not a child. I was an adult by my clan and I will not be treated like da'len around here." She corrected him while taking a seat he had gestured to.

"That is why you have the blood writing, then?" He gestured to her forehead.

"That is why I have part of it. Your Templars interrupted the ritual." She said with a bitter bite. Lyna wanted to be able to be respectful towards him, but she did not want to be treated condescendingly. "I was caught willingly and will remain here so, but you will not treat me as a child."

"Would you tell me the story of how you were caught?" Irving asked, his interest piqued. The Templars that delivered her gave their report to Gregoir and then left. Lyna told him the whole story. She delivered it hastily, leaving out a lot of the parts about how she recognized the corpses or how she let her Keeper die before she distracted the Templars. "I see." He said at the end of her story. "What magic did your clan train you in?"

"Why do you need to know that?" She asked with a small voice, trying to be polite. She didn't want to expose any more of her clan's secrets. Especially not the ones that could lead to the capture of other clans.

"I only ask to see where you are with the studies. Normally a mage will spend ten to twelve years studying as an apprentice. You come as a young adult, and so I ask where you are to avoid putting you in classes in children." Irving explained and saw that she still remained distrustful. "Okay, I will display several spells; you just try to copy them." Lyna nodded to that arrangement and then followed what he was doing. He did basic things only, like creating flames, wisps, things like that. He only tested her in primal and creationism, not venturing into entropy, blood, arcane, or spirit. She did not volunteer any knowledge for fear of further exposing Dalish secrets. She knew that Shemlen held a stigma to blood magic, and she didn't really blame them. It was taught by demons and as such normally involved making oneself a beacon for all of the creeps in The Fade. If they didn't teach the other magic, though… then they were just trying to control their mages by hacking parts out of a rounded magical education. "You're on track for your age. Currently the mages have a break from lessons. Usually there are five days a week when lessons in magic are taught. One day for history of Fereldon, that's taught for three years, and I'm sorry but you'll be with younger children for that when you start. One day for independent studies. This is when you can study in the library, revise your tomes, some of the apprentices hold card games. The day is officially for honoring the maker. There are four different services held that day and you will be expected to attend one. There are also daily readings of the chant and the worship room is open during curfew hours."

"Okay." Lyna was interested in the stories, but she wasn't sure if she could believe in more gods. Especially not ones that looked down on the blessing of magic. "Are there any other rules that I should know?" She asked rather naively. If she only knew about all of the rules.

**V***V**

**PM or leave a Review if you have questions. I take prompts, if you're interested. I update one of my stories every week, sometimes more often. This one is shorter, but I aim for 4,000 words a chapter. I write live and without a Beta, so feel free to politely point out any grammar mistakes. I don't always have chapters this heavy with symbolism. Plot will start churning soon enough.**


	2. Origin 2

Lyna woke up Jowan gently, telling him that if they didn't hurry, they would miss breakfast. Lyna had been up for a while, and she knew they weren't in danger of missing the meal, but nothing got Jowan up faster. He jumped off his bunk, the one directly above hers, and pulled on his over robe. Lyna smiled at how well that always worked. They walked out as Lyna was securing her hair into place. She had grown out the thick locks to hang to her waist, but she didn't want it to get into her food, something that had been a problem in the past. "Lea thinks she'll be taken for her Harrowing, have you heard?"

"The whole tower has heard." Jowan exaggerated. Lyna always picked up every bit of gossip around the tower and sometimes it made him rather jealous. She was an elf with white hair, and she could blend in better than him.

"Well, we know that the Harrowing Chamber was opened. And that there's lyrium in it. Normally they keep the lyrium in the basement or with the Tranquil. They're taking somebody, soon. The same thing happened two days before Michael was taking for his testing." Lyna always acted like it was their communal knowledge, instead of what she gathered from sneaking about or her sharp hearing. "It's probably you. You've gotten a lot better recently and Irving complimented you the other day."

"Please. I've thought it was me before. Nothing has changed. You're Irving's favorite, maybe he thinks you don't need any more training, considering you came in here knowing more than the average apprentice. You're the best. Except for healing. Though that might be because Anders keeps running off."

"You know that's not why." Jowan was the only one to hear her story. When she first came to the Tower, everybody asked questions, but she refused to tell. After a year locked away she met Jowan. Two years after that she told him. She knew that her best chance to get out of there was to practice healing, but she simply couldn't do it. She wasn't supposed to be a healer. Lyna felt that would be an ultimate betrayal to her clan. They wanted her to be a herder. The Creators disagreed. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to be doing, but she wouldn't learn how to be a healer.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it. We all have stories, though. You know my mother locked me in a barn for a few days waiting for the Templars to show. I don't still hold that over my head." Jowan was sick of her bringing up her clan.

"I know. But you weren't an adult. As young as I was, I had proved my worth to them. And I watched them die. I don't hold it over my head; I've accepted what has happened. But I don't think this is something one could dismiss." Lyna was tired of having this argument. Lately Jowan had seemed to have less patience for her. To Lyna, that seemed slimy considering how much she has helped him with tests and practicing. He would have been made tranquil by now if she hadn't helped him, and he kept dismissing her.

"I'm sorry, I'm just… You know that you're going to be picked, and I've been here twice as long as you." Jowan whined slightly. He was two years older than her and had been here since he was nine. He hated how fast she learned everything. She said it was because the Dalish taught her the basics of every school of magic, but that didn't cover everything. She was in the libraries every chance she got, taking notes and gathering every piece of knowledge she could. He had read some of her journals one night when she was asleep. Any type of gossip was written in one journal, and logged in a code he didn't quite understand. The ones that had to do with spell weaving were written in the same code. He knew that some spells were basic, some immensely complex, and he suspected that a few were her own making. She was sharp, and Jowan was jealous of that, too.

Lyna just smiled, she didn't want to fight with him anymore. On her way into the dining room, she said good morning to a Sir Cullen, who blushed and looked down the hallway. The entire Tower knew that he fancied her, but she liked to be friendly to people. She didn't like how some of the mages treated the Templars. The worst ones were generally guarding a room or out patrolling the world for unleashed magic. Gregoir was as bad as it got for any of the mages since they arrived, and Lyna was no exception.

The rest of the day was awkward. Jowan copied a lot of her notes for an upcoming exam in basic spirit magic. They didn't talk much, beside at meals when Jowan asked her to pass something to him.

Lyna had a note from Irving that allowed her to stay in the library passed curfew under the watch of a Templar. She normally asked Cullen, just because they could sit and enjoy a quiet together. But the familiar Templar was nowhere to be found after dinner. She picked a newer one, who hadn't been broken by seeing any horrors that went on in the Tower. Lyna had been scribbling away in her notes in her tome when she heard clanking noises signaling that a Templar walked up. She looked up, thinking that it was the one watching over her. What she saw was not that. They were two of the older Templars, and Irving.

"It's time for your Harrowing, Lyna." Irving said.

Lyna followed excitedly, grabbing her tomes. "You won't need those. I'll put them back in the room." One of the Templars said. Lyna made the trek to the very top of the Tower in silence. She rarely spoke outside of lessons or to Jowan, but Irving suspected that she was steeling herself for the upcoming trial. He favored her, as she knew, and so he let slip enough that she knew it had to do with the Fade. She didn't like what her people called the Beyond, she said whenever she was there in dreams it flung her into every reminder that whatever deity one could believe in had abandoned their wayward children.

This time was no different, except for that no demons were mocking her. Irving must have made a very specific spell to fling her into this area. Even though no demons were out in the open, Lyna was wary. She eyed the path before very carefully before stepping further. When she was sure there were no traps, Lyna walked forward, cataloguing everything she passed for mental notice. When she came across a rodent, she knew by the flare around his frame that he was an ethereal creature, and not part of the dream. No, this was a soul that belonged here. "What are you? Show me your true form, Spirit."

The mouse nodded slightly and then turned into a young man in apprentice robes. "I was a student. Sent here to prove myself against a demon. I didn't fail, but I took too long. The Templars were suspicious, and they cut me down. Without a body to go back to, my soul is stuck here."

"What's your name?" Lyna felt bad for him if his story was true. She wasn't sure if she believed him, but there was a possibility that he was telling the truth, and she needed to assess that.

"I've forgotten. It's been so long… You can call me… Mouse." He said with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "Time is so funny here. A second could be an eternity. You're running out the more we talk."

"Why would you try to help me?" Lyna's brows knitted together. She wasn't one to deny help, but normally she was the one giving it, not receiving it. And even so, most other people wouldn't see her as their problem.

"Because you seem strong. You seem like you can finally beat the demon in this realm. It's hunger incarnate. But we need to hurry."

"I know how time works here. I will be fine."

"You're cocky. I thought I would be fine, too."

"We're wasting time arguing, that's for sure." Lyna stepped back. "I'm going to go see what I can do to prepare before I face with the beast, goodbye, mouse. I hope you can pass through here one day."

"I'm going to come with you. I'm going to see if I can finally do something." Mouse proposed. Lyna accepted with a slight smile, unsure if this was going to help the wandering spirit, but willing to try. She continued down the path and came across a ghost of a warrior.

"Are you the mage who is to try and defeat the demon?" He said in a monotonous voice.

"Yes I am. Who are you?"

"I am a spirit of Valor. Created by the honor of a warrior. I make weapons here, as that was one of my tasks when I was still alive."

"Would one of those weapons help me to battle the demon?"

"If you could prove worthy, which you are not, then one of my weapons would certainly help you."

"May I have one?"

"No."

"You represent honor?" Lyna asked and watched him nod. "So why would you send me to die when you could help to make the fight more fair? That's not honorable. How many mages have died because you refused them a weapon?"

"You… are bold, mage. And you prove correct. Take one of my staffs. It will help you for as long as you are here."

"Thank you." She took the staff he handed her and bowed slightly. Lyna felt bad for the misled spirit, but then she wondered how many of her classmates had died because he wouldn't give them a weapon. Hopefully that would help some of the future mages. Lyna's thoughts wondered back to mouse as they continued down the path. She didn't think that she could trust the mage. In all of her studies, she had only heard of a dead mage being trapped in The Fade because it is in servitude to a demon. If he worked with a demon, he could've tricked countless others into their deaths.

And so Lyna refused the Sloth Demon's offer to teach the mouse how to shape shift. She didn't need to make a trickster stronger, and she doubted he would aide her that much in battle. If he was truly of a mind to help her, he could take form of a human and punch if he didn't remember spells. The elf found her way back to the clearing she passed earlier and took a few breaths to clear her mind. She could tell that this is where the demon will be. After one final exhale, Lyna walked into the clearing, the staff held tightly in her hand.

V***V

Irving knew that Lyna would pass. It was definite. Based on her abilities and what both he and Gregoir knew of her personality, she was given one of the harder tests. Lyna not only had to battle a demon and win, but also resist succumbing to another one. There were riddles she would have to overcome with a spirit, but still Irving knew she would prevail.

He did not think it would take her such little time, though. The fade's time was manipulated by how quickly one thought. A wittier person could do the same thing as a dim witted one. They would both feel the same amount of time pass, but a smarter person would be done quicker. It had to do with how quickly one's subconscious could deal with the riddles. Simply being aware of that or knowing about the Fade will help somebody.

Lyna took less than hour. She pulled herself out of the lyrium pool and swayed before falling. "It is done. She has passed. Return her to her bunk." Irving thought it was ironic that if a mage appeared healthy after their Harrowing, that meant he had failed and had a demon inside. If they didn't wake up, that meant the spirit had failed fighting a demon. But he knew Lyna would pass. She was too strong and too kind to fall prey to a demon, and too cunning to be fooled by one.

V***V

When Lyna woke up, she wondered if it was normal for a demon to have sent her back. Lyna wasn't sure what she had expected, but she didn't think the last thing she saw of her testing would be those cold eyes.

"Lyna, get up!" Jowan almost shouted and shook her.

"Since when are you getting me up?"

"Ha ha. I don't believe this I've been here twice as long as you and you get taken for your Harrowing while I'm…" Jowan cut himself off. "What was it like?"

"You know we're not supposed to talk about it, Jowan. But… it involved the Fade. I can't tell you anymore than that." Lyna felt a slight twinge of guilt, but she knew that she couldn't help him with this. Not everybody got the same test and so telling him about hers could make him do worse.

"Oh, great. Thanks, Lyna." Jowan snapped at her. "Irving wanted to see you, that's why I woke you up." He said with a whine in his voice and walked away.

Lyna stood up, she felt like she had drank too much wine. Her limbs were heavy and her head hurt slightly. She couldn't quite tell what time it was, a drawback of the Tower. Lyna as one of the only ones who remembered life before the Tower. She thought that it made her unlucky. She knew what she was missing. The other kids had no idea. Keeping track of time was very difficult. The Templars didn't want the mages to really know how long they were in there. But there was a calendar in Irving's office and Lyna went in there often enough. For the first two years, it was because she wasn't social enough, and that worried the Templars. Next it was because she was too skilled, and that worried the Templars. Then it was that Irving was proud of her. Only the good mages scare the Templars, Irving told her.

He wanted her to be a healer. She was good enough to impress all of her teachers and enough so that the Templars were nervous around her, and only part of it was because of her odd appearance. Everybody wanted to get out of the Tower, most of the mages that did were Healers. In fact, most mages that can heal leave at one point. So Irving and Wynne only picked powerful mages who were in control of themselves to be healers. All it would take is one or two mages who aren't good, or who give in to demonic temptations and everyone's chance could be suspended. Being offered to study healing was one of the highest compliments that could be given, and due to its ambiguous nature, only extremely cunning mages could learn it on their own. Irving thought it was curious that Lyna refused to try any healing spells. He was sure that she understood the theory, but nobody ever saw her try to heal anything, including her Templar library-guards.

Lyna made the trek up to Irving's office, hoping she wouldn't get another lecture on how she should learn the art of healing. She passed a few of her former classmates there, they all immediately stopped talking when she came up, meaning that they were gossiping about her or talking about her Harrowing. Either is just as likely, Lyna drew a lot of rumors in. She was a very giving person, but she still remained aloof, partially because she didn't want anybody to meet the same fate as her clan or pity her because of it. But mainly because Lyna had no idea how to act around people. When she was a child, she was expected to make friends and play games, but she preferred to hear stories or read. She entered her training as a mage eagerly because it meant she would have something to do. And then at the Tower, everybody swarmed her at first. But then they got a new mage to swarm within a few weeks and left Lyna alone. The only friendships she had were Eli and Jowan. Eli she admired because he was good with people. Jowan made her feel better about her own incompetence. Mages were often immature emotionally, being too open was bad, so all most of them knew to do was shut out people. But Jowan was like a petulant child. Lyna tried to help him where she could, but mostly he was just using her. She was starting to notice it more and more, that he would ask her for something and pout, and then afterwards be happy again. He was manipulative, even if he didn't realize he was doing it.

But Lyna didn't want to think about him right then, she should be happy. She was now considered to be a Mage as opposed to just an apprentice. She was eligible to join the army, if she could get Gregoir to agree. He probably would. She made him feel uncomfortable, but he knew that she was a fine mage and she had control over her emotions and desires, which ruled her out as a danger. And then she could finally get out of the Tower. She had spent almost a third of her life in the Tower, and Lyna knew that her time there was dwindling.

She didn't expect to walk in on Irving talking with some stranger and Gregoir. Irving must have wanted her to meet this man, because when Gregoir left, Irving beckoned her in and didn't act like this wasn't planned.

"Come child," Irving called her in. Lyna stepped into the room, her eyes flickering over to the new man. He wasn't a Templar, but he carried weapons.

"This is…" The man began quietly, not used to sneaking around elves, or he wouldn't have bothered whispering.

"Yes." Irving answered before clapping Lyna on the shoulder in congratulations. "Child, this is Duncan, the Warden-Commander of Fereldon."

"A Grey Warden?" Lyna asked excitedly. She had read so much about them and wanted to pelt the man with questions. "I'm honored to meet you, sir." Lyna bowed slightly before extending her hand. "I'm Lyna."

"It's nice to meet you, Lyna. As I understand it, congratulations are in order for passing your test."

Before Lyna could say thank you, Irving took control of the conversation again. "Yes, that's why I called you up here. You did very nicely in your Harrowing. You took less than an hour, you know. Fastest and cleanest I've ever seen." Irving said and handed her a set of folded robes. "These are your new robes. They will mark you as a Mage to the Circle. And you may own a staff now, as well." Irving handed her a basic metal staff.

"Thank you." Lyna said with a smile. She was proud of this moment. It marked the beginning of a new part of her life.

"The day is yours, Lyna. I only ask that you escort Duncan to his guest quarters."

Lyna did just that. She would've simply because Irving asked her to, but it was amplified by the fact that she would get a chance to speak more with Duncan. She asked him everything she could think of about the Wardens and about the battles. She didn't have any thirst for gore, but she did want a sense of purpose and would be glad to join the Wardens or the Army if she could actually do something. She told this to Duncan and he smiled at her while inclining his head.

"So you're here for recruits, yes?" She asked Duncan, they had made it to the quarters a while ago, but he invited her in to converse with her.

"Yes. We currently have no Mages within our ranks and Magic can be very helpful in a fight."

Lyna frowned for a moment while thinking about the only fight she had ever been in, all those years ago. Magic hadn't been an aide then, the most powerful mage she had known died. Though Lyna suspected that Darkspawn aren't trained like Templars, which would put a lot of truth into what Duncan had said. Magic could be used to support other soldiers or to damage enemies. "How many are you looking for?" Lyna didn't want to think too much of her chances. There were about one hundred other mages, and they had more experience than her at their duties.

"I would gladly take all I could, but the Templars won't let more than a couple go, if that. A mage chosen would not belong to The Tower anymore and so would never have to return. The Chantry doesn't think too much of that."

"They don't think it's worth it. They aren't willing to concede on anything." Lyna corrected with a frown. "They aren't going to stop until all Magic is under their control, and everything they decide is too dangerous will be lost."

"A highly regrettable fate." Duncan inclined his head in an apology.

"Yes it is." Lyna looked down quickly before bowing ever so slightly. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Duncan, but I should be going. Thank you for humoring my questions."

"Think nothing of it."

V***V

Lyna was forced to make one of the hardest decisions of her life. When Jowan revealed Lilly to her, Lyna wondered around aimlessly, thinking about her best friend as a Tranquil. She wasn't sure she could take it, and her head swam with the idea of losing the only friend she had made in five years. Somehow, she had run into Irving, who pulled her into his office, concerned at the look on her face.

She asked if he was really going to make Jowan a Tranquil. He said yes, he knew about Lilly, and had evidence Jowan had been practicing blood magic. Jowan had told her that what Irving thought was sneaking around was him meeting up with Lilly. Lyna had told Jowan that she needed to think about it, and she had told Irving that if the couple plans anything, Lyna will tell him.

She thought that having her own quarters would solve things; she thought that it meant she could have more space. That she and Jowan wouldn't have to share a bunk. Even though the space meant she didn't have to worry about being robbed, Lyna had always pictured her section next to Jowan's. But this bed was too soft, too big. Jowan wasn't next to her and he never would be. He would either be sleeping under the stars or with Tranquil soon. Or if she helped Irving and betrayed Jowan, he would wind up in Aeonar, and no mage wanted to know of the horrors of that place. Irving once told her that he would rather be captured by Qunari than go to the mages' prison. She couldn't imagine sending her friend there. But blood magic was dangerous and addictive. He wouldn't stop and she didn't trust Jowan's abilities enough to constantly be on guard. All it would take is one second of distraction, and then he would be gone forever.

Setting him free was not an option. Watching him lose all of his emotions, dreams, ambitions, and magic was not an option. Sending him to Aeonar was not an option. Lyna wondered if she should be thinking about this from her angle. Irving promised her that he could get her out if she helped him. That was a nasty trick, and they both knew it. Lyna had always admired him for his ability to keep control of the Tower, but learning how he did it made her lose some respect for him. But the stakes were the only thing she wanted for the only friend she had.

Jowan would be gone anyway, she supposed with a few tears sliding down her face. If she helped him, she would just as likely be sent to Aeonar.

Lyna made her choice and went to see Irving early in the morning, her eyes red and puffed.


	3. Ostagar 1

**You'll notice I add another recruit in. He's not a main character and will not be present throughout the whole story, though he is based off Cousland. Eventually I may try my hand at a multi-Warden fic, but this is not the time. Sorry for the mini spoiler.**

"If you don't mind my asking, Lyna, what made you decide to side with Irving. Was the captured mage not your friend?"

Lyna heard his question, as innocent as he meant it, like a knife to the gut. "Jowan was my friend. I trusted Irving more than I trusted Jowan's desperate ambition. I knew he was practicing blood magic. My loyalty is far from the Chantry, but I don't trust blood magic, and I don't like mages who do. They are willing to sink to a demon's level, just for power. Demons that could have killed any number of innocent people. And besides that, getting knowledge from a demon makes you more likely to succumb to that demon's whispers and promises… Seeing my friend escape wasn't worth the damage he would do to himself or to people around him, I thought." She answered politely enough, but Lyna was offended by the question. Irving thinks she agreed just to get outside again. If the circumstances were different, if she just didn't know about his blood magic, Lyna would have rebelled if it meant she could save Jowan. As it stood, even knowing about his blood magic, it was still a hard decision to make.

Lyna didn't want Duncan to misunderstand her. "If it helps, I likely would've acted similarly in the same circumstances. You looked at it logically and took the harder path of action to save people. I had been thinking of recruiting you before then, but when I heard of your actions, it solidified my resolve. You will make a fine Warden, I'm sure." He said seriously.

"Thank you." Lyna blushed a little, but was overall very thrilled that he understood and she didn't have to explain it anymore. The walk to Ostagar was slow and mocking. Lyna hadn't walked that much since she was brought to  
>Kinloch Hold. Then at least, it was a cool week. This time, the heat of late summer's sun was beating against her. Tiring her and making her lose all of the water she consumed to sweat. Blissfully, unlike the Templars, Duncan understood that she would not be able to keep his pace and slowed down throughout the day.<p>

They didn't speak much until the setting sun required that they stop for the day. "Will you light a fire?" Duncan asked her, setting pieces of kindling down into a hole he had dug.

Lyna nodded and touched the brushwood before summoning a fire to her hand. She pulled it away quickly, but continued to manipulate it until the entire base had caught. When that was lit, Lyna took some of the bigger pieces from a pile and made a small tower-like structure that would burn slower, but raise more heat.

"Where did you learn your survival skills?" Duncan referred to the trap she made to catch their dinner and how she knew the most efficient way to light a fire. "I didn't think the Circle would teach their mages how to survive in the woods." He added at her pause and frown.

"Um, no they don't. That wouldn't end up well. Most mages that escape are found dead, and that's how they like it. I just… assumed The First Enchanter would have told you, or you would've guessed. I was Dalish before I was caught. My clan was under attack by Templars. I created a distraction and ran so the Templars would chase me instead of killing all of us." Lyna bit her lower lip before continuing. "I watched my Keeper die as I stayed hidden, and I… just knew what I had to do."

"That was a very noble and brave thing to do." Duncan conceded.

"Don't confuse that with me." Lyna added quietly. "I have only made three decisions in my life. One of them I didn't want to die. One of them I didn't want Jowan to become a murderer. And one of them was pure selfishness. I'm not a hero. I'll do what I'm told, but please don't play it up to be more than that, Duncan." Lyna wouldn't be able to call herself a hero knowing that she watched as her clansmen died. If she had fought sooner, everything would have been okay. "I don't make choices… I can't… I can't deal with people. I use logic because I'm not sure how to use emotions."

The rest of the week was awkward. Duncan refrained from giving her compliments, unsure how they would make her react. He could see she needed time to heal. Jowan was the only non-authoritative person she had told about her past, and she had lost him. Duncan realized that when he was her age, he was just as volatile. Lyna needed time to think everything through, so he would be patient and give her that.

When she did talk, it was always to inform or to pose an intellectual question. She rarely asked him questions that weren't relevant to their immediate situation and never just chatted to fight the silence. He could appreciate the lack of rowdiness, but felt the need to warn her about other recruits and Wardens. An hour away from their goal, the fortress of Ostagar hidden by the trees once more, Duncan stopped and waited for her to catch up. "Lyna, we should talk about what you need to expect in Ostagar.

"There will be Mages there. I am unsure if they have been informed of the circumstances surrounding your recruitment. I did not reveal anything in the letter I sent ahead, only your name and a basic description. But still Irving or Gregoir may have sent a letter to the mages." Lyna nodded her understanding. "Though not everybody does, some people are going to have a prejudice against Elven and female warriors. All I ask in those situations is that you do not act in such a way that would reflect poorly on the Wardens. We do not need to give reasons for anybody to care any less for us. By sunset, I expect you to be back at the camp. You will need to seek out Alistair, he will help you find the other three recruits and will guide you through The Joining. Finally, I wanted to warn you that many of the people around the camp will not be as reserved as you are. Some of the people will be blundering, drunk, fools. There will be a lot of noise. I advise you to get used to the idea now."

"Thank you for warning me." Lyna was pleased that he would take the time to warn her. The last person who warned her was Irving. But Duncan wasn't cryptic or feeble. He didn't have any ulterior motive for wanting her to survive, or for her mental comfort.

Soon they were at the gates of Ostagar, and a man in golden armor rode up to them on horse. Lyna expected him to stay on his horse, but the man got down and practically hugged Duncan. She had heard about King Cailen, she was captured only a few months before his wedding. She had not pictured a pale blonde warrior with shining armor and perfectly kept hair. He was very friendly, even a bit flirtatious. But Lyna did not like him. He spoke of war like it was a dream, and the closer Lyna got to knowing she would have to fight, the more the dead bodies flashed before her eyes. She thought she was passed this, but her stomach was in knots and before she and Duncan even crossed the bridge, Lyna needed to stop to breathe. She stood there for half an hour, running her hands through her hair and trying to forget the faces of her clan, dead around her. She had seen an abomination once. Lyna hated picturing how many of her fellow mages turned into them. It was rarer amongst the Dalish, but still common enough. Dalish elves still had desires, after all. She pictured Eli's face twisted and greasy. She pictured him as a monster. But Lyna shook the images away and forced herself to look at the scenery. Calmly she assured herself that her clan wouldn't have done that. They were dead, or they were alive. She knew she was being insane. Lyna knew that if anything, fighting the blight would help her old clan members. She had no idea what to expect of the Darkspawn, but she knew somehow that it couldn't get any worse.

Finally having thoroughly calmed herself, Lyna stepped inside the fortress of Ostagar. There were more people in this one encampment than she had ever met in her entire life. She recognized all of the mages that were about. One was away from the group standing on a raised platform over looking the encampment, one was a Tranquil standing behind Wynne, who seemed to making some type of potion. Lyna chuckled slightly despite herself when she saw two of them throwing what looked to be a wisp back and forth. Three of them were doing something in the Fade, being guarded by the Templars that had accompanied them. The Chantry had decided a while back that for every forty circle mages, there needed to be three Templars, one for every guard shift. For apprentices, the number was three for every twenty, they were at a much higher risk of turning into abominations. The younger children and the Tranquil didn't need any explicitly, but were just as closely watched.

Lyna was surprised at the number of Templars she could see. Being outside would make the mages more likely to runoff, escape, or try to hinder the Templars. But for some reason there were only the two guarding the ones in The Fade. She didn't believe that The Chantry would be that stupid, and wondered if the other ones were in a tent. Much like how people without magic liked to now when a mage was around, Lyna was obsessed with knowing exactly how likely it was that somebody could cutoff her power, making her useless, as well as giving her a sharp headache. She never had good reactions to anything that could cut her off from the fade. Even as a baby, her parents said, she was laughing at shadows and always trying to grab things that weren't there. She didn't know what all of that meant, but she resented Templars for their ability to cast her into a stage where she can't defend herself. Lyna remembered sleight of the hands, lock picking, and survival skills form her time as a Dalish. She was never good with blades or bows, and so she knew what little skill she had would be gone. She wandered in the camp, realizing more and more that she hated what was done to her. Lyna had forced apathy for so long, it felt good to admit the loathing to herself. It didn't change anything, she knew that most of the Templars were orphaned and didn't have a choice. Lyna didn't feel a need to go and make connections with people. She just realized that she hated the Chantry and everything it did to her.

Lyna had gone into what remained of counsel room of some court and saw that the mage that had been watching over the ruined fort had been joined by a warrior dressed in meek chainmail armor. The warrior seemed to match Duncan's description of Alistair, so Lyna climbed up the final flight of the stairs and stood quietly against the wall. The warrior was sarcastic and tired, dealing with the mage, soon annoying him to the point where he just left.

Alistair ran a gloved hand through his short coppery hair. "One of the good things about the Blight is how it brings people together." He muttered, looking to the horizon.

"Maybe we should all hold hands and sing." Lyna spoke mainly to make him realize she was standing there.

Alistair startled slightly, turning to her. He hadn't seen her enter the semi-room, and when he did spot the owner to the voice, she didn't appear lively. Her hair was a pure white, not even a silvery blonde, and her skin was almost as pale. The darkest feature on her were her eyes, they were a lazy hazel color without much intensity. That is not to say her glare didn't hold his attention, though. She must be one of the rogues from the army, he thought. That's why she was so stealthy. Alistair realized he was staring and she was still waiting for a response and shook his head.

"That would certainly be a distraction." Alistair fumbled out his response. "I'm Alistair, the junior Grey Warden. I don't suppose you're another mage, are you?" He said with a chuckle.

She smiled back shyly and tucked her hair behind her sharp pointed ear. "Are mages a bother?"

"Not inherently, no. I just like to know my chances of being turned into a frog at any time." His joke fell flat and he realized that she very well could be a mage. "I was trained as a Templar before I joined the Wardens. The Revered Mother sent me to deliver a message to him, I'm sure she meant it as some sort of an insult."

"The Chantry likes to humiliate people. I understand. I lived under their rule for five years."

"You're Duncan's newest recruit!" Realization went off like a firework in his head. "I'm sorry, I should've recognized you."

"It's fine, we've never met. I'm Lyna." She bows her head slightly, tense around the Templar.

"Nice to meet you, Lyna." He stuck out a hand which she took slowly and lightly. Her handshake was very dainty, like the rest of her, and he wondered what Duncan saw in her that made him recruit her. "You know, now that I think about it, there have never been many women in the Grey Wardens. I wonder why that is?" Even the Wardens that came from other countries said that female Wardens were rare, but in Fereldon, there were none.

"You want more women in the Wardens?" Lyna asked with a cocked brow.

"Well..." Alistair thought about how before they marched to Ostagar, the last woman he had seen was an aging Chantry Sister. "Yes. Is that really so bad?" He added the question with a flush on his face and Lyna just looked at him with an unreadable expression. "Don't look at me like that, I'm not some drooling lecher." Lyna chuckled slightly, the tiniest smile on her face. When she stopped laughing, she bit down on her lower lip and looked away from Alistair, making him feel like he said something wrong.

"Should we find the other recruits and get on with it, then?" Lyna nodded, her face not giving away any hint of her emotions. As they went about navigating the camp, Alistair noticed she seemed like a reserved person. Not shy, just disinterested. She avoided the crowds, spoke rarely, but directly. And they still managed to find Ser Jory and Daveth, she helped a mabari and a prisoner, and traded for supplies. He found it an abnormality that she avoided the vast groups of people, but still knew who to seek out, whether to help or to speak to.

"Do you think the third is at the campsite?" Lyna asked him, snapping him out of his pondering. They had circled the entire ground, save for the Army barracks, and they hadn't seen him. Admittedly, Lyna had no idea what he looked like, and Alistair had been distracted.

Jayson had been at the camp the majority of the time. He didn't like the crowds, and he liked to help the Wardens with anything he could. "Probably. He seemed a little reclusive." Alistair knew he was mourning, but he didn't think it was his place to tell Lyna why.

Lyna smiled and moved her shoulders, trying to loosen them up before looking over her shoulder towards the camp. A frown crossed her face for a second, before she bit down on her lower lip. Alistair was starting to notice that she did that before she would speak to people. "Okay, let's go, then." Lyna wasn't afraid of people exactly, but she hated how they were always out for themselves. Irving wanted to punish the Chantry for punishing Jowan. Jowan wanted to use her to escape. The worst thing is that she took or reversed those opportunities. Lyna hated herself for selling out Jowan in order to try and get out. She hated that she could agree with the way that Irving used her. Lately she had been reflecting on her capture. If she hadn't insisted on being given her blood writing she would've been outside. She could have helped more. Lyna liked to pretend that she was over it, but the memory of that night would still plague her dreams.

When they made it to their section of the camp, Lyna saw that while their were rogues, mages, warriors, men, women, and elves, all across the rest of the camp- there were only men here. And all but Daveth and who she assumed to be Jayson looked like warriors. She had been told that the Wardens only had one Mage at a time, but it was odd to think that they sought out warriors. Or perhaps it was more likely that a warrior's strength and constitution made them more likely to make it through whatever trials lay in The Joining.

But as Duncan described that in addition to the blood they were required to fetch, the recruits must also look for some scrolls. She thought it was odd that he would delay the ritual, it must be rather short if they had time to fetch the scrolls and still complete it before sunset.

"What type of scrolls?" Lyna spoke up and the men all looked at her. She had been sitting on the ground behind Alistair stretching for the skirmishes they were sure to have; quiet and easy to over-look.

"Old treaties, if you're curious. Different factions of Fereldon promised t aide our order during a Blight. I fear they may have forgotten what was once lost and we may need to prove it."

"Or remind people of what can still be lost." Lyna said with a nod, showing that she understood what they were to do.

"Precisely." Duncan nodded slightly. "So if you're all clear on what is expected, you should be leaving soon."

Nobody else had any questions, and so Lyna stood up, her robes swishing around her ankles as they dropped.

V***V

"If you weren't a mage, you'd make an excellent rogue, you know." Jayson said while they were looking around the ruins for the treaties.

"Thanks." Lyna said halfheartedly. She didn't like to be distracted and she didn't like people thinking she was less of anything because she was a mage.

"You're very sneaky is all. You could blend in very well if you so chose. I suspect that if you didn't have the gift, if you fought, you would work best from the shadows, with back stabs and speed."

Lyna pushed her hair back, parts of it tinted red, and looked up at him. Jayson was leaning casually against ruined mortar and stone, soot, dirt, and blood across his face. She blushed before turning away, wary of his smirk. He wasn't as brazen as Daveth, which was good, but still he was flirting. In the Tower, flirting meant sex. And sex meant likely being interrupted by Templars and possibly having Holy Smite cast upon you. Or at least that's what it meant as an apprentice.

The only thing that Lyna truly had was her magic. Being cut off from it was robbing her of everything. It was throwing her into a dark abyss and setting her skin on fire. In that way, she appreciated the Circle, because it taught her what she would feel like without her magic. To that end, she was in awe of people of that had never been cut off from their gift, but still reveled in it.

Lyna looked up after a minute of silence, thinking that one of the other men walked over. To her surprise, it was a wild-looking woman, carrying a gnarled branch across her back.

"Alistair." Lyna called out calmly, hearing the knight clamber up behind her, and then his surprised gasp.

"I've tracked your progress for some time. Where do they go, I wonder, why are they here? Are they scavengers, come to pick bones that have long since been picked clean? Or are they intruders, come into these darkspawn-filled wilds of mine in search of easy prey?" The woman walked gracefully and fluidly until she was in front of the group, crossing her arms and swaying still. "What say you- Scavenger, or intruder?"

"Scavengers, I suppose. We're looking for something that was once that was once here. When the Grey Wardens owned this Tower."

"It is a tower no longer. What you seek likely isn't here. Are you recruits for the Grey Wardens, or trying to make a fortune off them?" She asked as she walked through the group, standing on a slightly raised section overlooking the Wilds.

"Don't answer her, she looks Chasind, and that means there may be others nearby." Alistair mumbled to Lyna.

The men with her were very suspicious. Perhaps they didn't know that mages could be just as safe away from the Chantry. Or perhaps they feared the unknown. Lyna gave clean and precise answers. If she left the talking to another, they would likely ruin the only chance of help they saw. Morrigan hinted that the treaties weren't there, but it took a few minutes of conversation until she trusted or liked them enough to lead them to her Mother and the scrolls.

V***V

The ritual could kill them. That thought kept ringing in Lyna's head. She didn't realize that she feared death before this, but she thought it would be good to at least die under the stars. By the Creators, it was a gorgeous night. Lyna waited in the same secluded area that she met Alistair in earlier, sitting against the stone wall, looking up at the sky. It was so pretty. The wind seemed to still and the night changed the weather so that it couldn't be described as anything other than an extension than her own body. The clouds that were dotted across the sky had left, leaving the sky covered with stars. To her, it was like a soft daytime, her eyes sharper than human's.

Jayson sat down next to her. "I hate nighttime." They were waiting for the others and Duncan to show up. Lyna and Jayson were apparently the only ones who didn't feel like they had something to do and they just waited. "It's dark. I feel like I've been cut off from something."

Lyna wanted to say something. She didn't know what, but she wanted to talk- to tell him that he wasn't looking hard enough for light. But then she remembered Eli and Jowan. Every time she went through a ritual of some sort, a disaster happened. So she shrugged and pulled her knees up to her chest.

The ritual began soon enough after that. Daveth fell to the ground with a thud. Jory fell off Duncan's blade with a sickening sound. Lyna took it before Jayson, and almost threw up from the taste. At first she didn't feel any different, but then she felt something like a burning. Lyna can only describe the effects that came after as wrong- she just felt as if her body was rejecting something. Lyna didn't remember falling, but she felt the cold concrete hit her along with Duncan's congratulations.


End file.
